Our Love Was Lost
by Miss Romance-Lover
Summary: To the outside world, Ste is getting on with life after Brendan's imprisonment. On the inside, he is as lost as ever. Until one day he finds himself back at the beginning of it all. Stendan one-shot.


**So, the title is inspired by the song 'Love Lost' by Temper Trap. This idea came to me over a month ago, and it's taken me ages to finish. Not really sure how this one will be received (translation, don't know if it's any good lol) so please do let me know if you decided to give it a go! **

Our Love Was Lost

"Now remember, we're only a phone call away if you need us."

Ste sighs, craving some peace and quiet after a long morning. "I know, Ames. I'll be fine, promise. Go on, I thought you said Sam was taking you out for lunch while the kids are at their mates' houses?"

She smiles knowingly at him. "Want me to stop pestering you?"

"Don't be daft," he assures her, gesturing around his new flat. "Just let me get settled in, yeah? I'll see you later. Am I still alright to come by and see Leah and Lucas later?"

Amy leans forward to hug him goodbye. "Of course you are, Ste! We'll see you at about five, then."

After she's gone, he flops down on the sofa and looks around again. He'd been so desperate to escape his best friend's over-excitement at the move that he'd not thought through the repercussions of being alone again.

And it's not as though he isn't happy to be back near his kids – he's thrilled to bits. It's just that when it comes down to it, he isn't a part of their family anymore. Amy, Leah and Lucas have another man to love and look up to now.

But Ste will take whatever he can get when it comes to them. When Doug had mentioned the idea of expanding their business and the possibility of opening up a second branch of Carter & Hay, he had suggested Manchester straight away.

Thankfully Amy had been supportive when he'd told her he intended to move down here and open the new deli himself. She'd volunteered to help him move his stuff in, and also promised he can see their kids as much as he wants.

Despite how close he is to Amy, though, Ste knows this is all mainly because he's finally sorted himself out. He'd been so lost after losing Brendan, and in many ways he still is. But he can't go back to that dark place again. He might not have somebody to share his life with, but he'll make damn sure to be the best father he can be.

With that thought in mind, he heaves himself up from the sofa and starts unpacking all the basic things he needs for the kitchen and such. He's hoping to be able to have Leah and Lucas over the next day as it's Sunday, and he needs to get organised first.

_**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**_

A few hours later Ste has made a good start with the boxes, and he decides to quit while he's ahead and wander down the road to take a look at the new deli.

It's bigger than the one in Chester, and that's something that still jolts him even though this isn't his first time viewing it.

He scans his eyes over every inch of the place, getting a feel for the finished interior and trying to convince himself that he'll get used to the big changes in his life. He's alone in this business now – or at least that's what it feels like now that Doug's not going to be around to guide him.

Ste's taking the reins of this place, meaning he's the one that's had to hire people. Staff; an accountant, not to mention the decorators.

Like the original deli, there is a seating area next to the window; and he sits there for a while, lost in thought. It's only when his phone starts ringing that he realises how late it's getting. Turns out it's Amy, wondering what he's up to.

"You still coming round?" she asks once Ste's filled her in. When he looks at his watch, it says half past four. He wonders whether he can just head straight there now and forget waiting until five. There's only so much time he can spend wallowing in his own thoughts before he becomes desperate for the company of others.

Which should bode well for living alone then, he muses.

He smiles, instantly happier when Amy says that yes, of course he can head over to see them now.

Leah opens the door for him when he arrives. He scoops her into a hug just before Lucas comes bounding over, excited to see his Daddy. The fact that they both still love him so unconditionally gives him the rare feeling of being the luckiest man in the world.

Moments like this tell him that it was worth packing up his life and moving here to be near them. If he keeps that in mind he almost feels brave enough to tackle making a real go of the new shop.

At everyone's insistence, Ste stays for dinner - cooked by Sam, Amy's husband. The food is nice enough, but he knows of one man in particular who would have insisted that his was better.

Once the kids have gone to bed, he broaches the subject of having them over to his the next day. When Amy agrees straight away he feels guilty for expecting her refusal.

He's been imagining this Sam trying to turn her against him; had anticipated being permanently pushed out one of these days. But he has to stop thinking like that. The man seems decent, genuine. It's what she deserves.

When the conversation comes to a natural end, Ste says goodnight and shares a hug with Amy. "Sleep well," she tells him.

He can't tell her that the only reason he's been sleeping at all is because of sleeping tablets.

They are the only thing stopping him from lying awake in bed at night, still desperately missing the man who should be there with him.

He's been attempting to wean himself off of the things for months – and moving away from the painful memories of losing Brendan is something that he hopes will conquer the problem.

Ste knows full well that going from dealing drugs to taking some form of them in order to get a decent night's sleep doesn't exactly count as cleaning up his act. But that, along with his new resolve, doesn't stop him from opening the new bottle of pills that night.

Looking at the unfamiliar label, he wonders in hindsight whether they're dodgy. His GP had recently refused to prescribe him any more, and Ste had walked out of the surgery before the doctor had a chance to offer him alternative solutions.

Instead, he had gone straight to his old drugs supplier and asked for one last fix. Only this time it wasn't for him to sell on; nor was it anything illegal.

Or so he'd been told.

Now he studies the foreign words on the pill bottle and hesitates. But he's exhausted and desperate for rest, and it's that fact that wins the argument in his head as he gulps one of the tablets down with some water.

With a sigh, Ste gets into bed and waits for sleep to claim him.

_**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**_

There's something unusual about the way he wakes up. Unusual, and yet somehow familiar.

He can feel an arm around him; a warm body lying next to him in the bed. And given that Ste went to bed alone the night before, this should scare the living daylights out of him.

Yet for some reason, he feels peaceful.

Then a voice rings out, calling for Brendan, and he realises. That was Cheryl – and, even more startling: he's in bed with _Brendan_.

He opens one eye and, as suspected, finds that the Irishman is in his line of vision.

If this were a normal, believable situation that actually made _any_ sense, Ste would probably be giddy by now. Well, it was a coin toss between that or venting all his buried anger at the man who abandoned him. But this can't really be happening, so instead he squeezes both eyes shut as if to wake himself up for real.

Cheryl's voice lingers outside again, and now Brendan speaks, softly and urgently as he pushes Ste out of the bed. "Move, move!"

He crouches on the floor, hidden from anyone else's view as he stares at his surroundings. He barely registers the conversation going on above him as Cheryl enters the room – his head can't get past the fact that this is _Brendan's_ room, in the Bradys' old flat.

What the hell is going on?

The door clicks shut, and there are footsteps disappearing down the stairs. Ste slowly rises from his hiding place and comes face to face with the love of his life, who appears slightly younger than the last time he saw him. There is a frown on his face as he speaks.

"I want ye out of here. _Now_."

There is no surprise in his voice as he speaks, and an eerie feeling comes over Ste. He's sure he's lived through this moment before.

"You what?" he asks stupidly, because protesting didn't work the first time and it certainly isn't going to work now.

Brendan jumps out of bed in only his boxer shorts, locates the younger man's clothes and tosses them over to him. Ste takes a moment to study him as he moves. He hasn't seen this man in years, and he hadn't thought it possible to forget his every feature; had been sure every detail would remain etched on his memory for life. But seeing him now makes him realise that the image in his mind hadn't done Brendan justice.

"Get dressed and get out," the older man barks at him now.

For some reason, Ste follows his instructions and throws on the jeans and t-shirt – items of clothing he remembers getting rid of long ago.

It's as Brendan turns away to get dressed himself that he remembers. Old feelings start to resurface - the humiliation of being used and then thrown away; or in this case, thrown out.

He's reliving a time when Brendan Brady is ashamed by the notion of being gay. And ashamed of being with _him_ along with it.

For Ste, all the desire in the world to be in the same room as the Irishman again just isn't worth feeling all that pain for a second time.

Recalling how, years ago, he had had to creep around the place and escape in secret while Brendan distracted a tearful Cheryl, this time Ste tears out of the room and bolts down the stairs so fast it's a wonder he doesn't fall and break his neck.

But then, this has to be a dream, he muses. So maybe injury isn't even possible.

"Ste?" Cheryl's stunned voice calls after him, but he heads straight for the door and doesn't look back as he hears her trying to find out what is going on. Neither does he stop at the sound of Brendan's horrified shouts of "Steven!"

He just runs, the echo of the familiar voice using his full name ringing in his ears as he moves.

On instinct, Ste heads in the direction of his flat – the one he shared with Amy for years; and then with Brendan until their time together had been cut short. The key is in the pocket of his jeans, and he shakes his head in disbelief at how real this all seems.

Regardless of whether this is a dream, a time travel experience or in fact a long overdue psychotic episode, he lets himself in. Hoping there is no Amy from the past to have to deal with, he walks straight over to the sofa and collapses on it, closing his eyes.

The more Ste dwells on it, the more he thinks that this whole thing must be his mind's way of letting go of Brendan once and for all.

A bizarre and rather disturbing way to do it, yes; but maybe it was necessary.

With that idea in mind, he lets his head rest on the sofa and doesn't fight off the sudden drowsiness that overcomes him.

_**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**_

The next time he opens his eyes, he finds himself back in the world that makes sense to him – at least these days.

He sits up in bed, looks around him and sighs. Brendan is lost to him once again, and if that ridiculous dream was supposed to be an attempt at closure then he doesn't feel any better for it.

Picking up his watch from the bedside table he'd placed in the room the day before, Ste sees that it's almost lunch time. He's slept for almost _twelve_ hours.

When it occurs to him that Amy is dropping the kids off within the hour, it jolts him into action. By the time they arrive, he's done a good impression of someone who's been up for a few hours. Everything has been tidied or put away – including things he still has yet to unpack.

"Daddy!" Leah and Lucas are shrieking excitedly at him now as Amy leads them inside. She kisses him on the cheek, then waves goodbye to them all, leaving them to it.

All thoughts of his deja vu episode are forgotten as Ste shows his son and daughter around his new place, throwing himself into the new life he's trying to make for himself. And being with his children again is a good start.

By the time their mother returns to pick them up that evening, he's worn himself out once again, and is hopeful that sleep may come naturally to him tonight.

Unfortunately, no amount of warm milk, mindless television or sheep counting will make him nod off. It frustrates him to think that it had been so easy to fall asleep in his very realistic dream, and yet in the here and now he just _can't_ get that relief.

In the sheer desperation that he's become accustomed to, Ste locates the bottle of sleeping pills and swallows one down.

It's only as he puts it down on the bedside table again that he remembers the unusual label. It sounds crazy even inside his own head, but he finds himself considering the possibility that the tablet he took the night before could actually have caused him to go back to one of the most memorable moments in his early relationship with Brendan.

Then the rational part of his brain dismisses the entire thought; it had to be nothing more than a very vivid dream.

It _had_ to be. If it wasn't, then that would make him delusional - and in need of serious help.

Determined to have a night of restful, dreamless sleep, he falls back against the pillows for the second time and closes his eyes again.

_**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**_

There isn't a bed beneath him this time; but Ste doesn't need to open his eyes to know who it is that's breathing heavily beside him.

He can feel carpet burns on his thighs.

He knows where he is, _and _what he's supposed to have just done. The whole thing is confirmed when he hears the very same voice from the night before. Only this time it's softer, gentler.

"Gonna have to learn how to trust me, hmm?"

He opens his eyes and turns his head, eyes locking with Brendan's. And everything about the man's face is so sincere, so exacting with the way he remembers this moment. So he finds himself nodding, as if it's the very first time he's heard these words.

The older man leans in for a kiss, and Ste doesn't deny him; couldn't if he tried. If he is dreaming, he decides, then let it continue.

They are lost in this kiss; so lost that he neglects to remember why they never get to finish it. _Eileen_.

"Brendan? What's going on?"

"Eileen!"

And Ste watches as the man slips from his grasp; stands to pull on his jeans, flustered and awkward.

He hears Brendan making the introductions while he's getting dressed: _"you remember my wife Eileen..." _But he doesn't need to stick around to hear the rest. He knows how it went; how it's going to go.

Blocking out the rest of their conversation, he legs it out of the Brady flat for the second time in as many nights. He can recall the memory of that last dream as though it's just happened; but then again dreams aren't supposed to link together and be referenced in others, are they?

Ste runs down the steps without looking where he's going, and by the time he becomes aware of his surroundings again he's already bumped straight into Amy. He practically falls into her arms and she has to help him up off the ground.

"What's going on, Ste? What happened?"

But her frantic question is drowned out by his mind working overtime as he looks all around them. There's Frankie Osborne staring unashamedly at him as she ushers away the two girls, Esther and that Ruby that she looks after.

Everything's _exactly_ as it was the first time; the outcome is just playing out differently.

He turns back to Amy, the one piece of comfort he has in this re-enactment, and she takes one look at his ashen face and links her arm in his to lead him away.

"Come on. Let's get you home."

_Home. _That's where he wants to be – only not here, not anymore. He wants to be in his new home in Manchester, even if there's no one to wake up to; even though he's alone with his thoughts there.

At least his life makes _sense_ there.

He barely notices when they arrive at the flat. She has to take him by the hand and bring him inside, otherwise he would just stay rooted to the spot.

She leaves him in the middle of the living room while she potters around in the kitchen, probably making tea.

Funny how people always think a good cup of tea can solve anything, even in dreams.

Ste's starting to grasp the fact that this doesn't feel like a dream, though. For one thing, he can feel himself shaking now. In fact, he's losing all control of his body; a few more seconds pass and he can't even hold himself up.

He hears Amy's screams as he crashes to the floor, but he doesn't see her.

He's not even in the room anymore by the time she reaches the spot he'd been standing in - in mind _or_ in body.

_**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**_

The alarm doesn't jolt him the same way it normally would. But when Ste opens his eyes he is still shaking, and he instantly knows why. He doesn't even feel as though he's just woken up. He's just been physically moved away from a day in his past.

There's a knock on his door, and any further thought on the growing fragility of his mental state is put to one side as he steps out of bed in only his boxers and stumbles over to answer it. He isn't bothered about his state of undress; knows that it'll only be Amy – although usually he would hasten to throw a pair of jeans on at least.

As predicted, the mother of his kids wanders in, looking him up and down. In his head, he saw her just minutes ago – a slightly younger version, but the same old Amy nonetheless.

"What's happened to your legs?" she exclaims now, and he follows her gaze as she gestures towards his thighs.

"Carpet burn," he blurts out, stunned at the evidence; the blatant confirmation that it really did _actually_ happen.

Amy looks confused. "But you've got laminate flooring," she points out.

His eyes drop to the floor and he wonders, quite insignificantly, when he turned into someone with such posh taste.

She clicks on before he can comment on how he got the marks on his legs. "Who's carpet have you been _on_, Ste? You've only been in Manchester for five minutes, you jammy sod!"

Ordinarily he'd turn all coy at this point, avoid her gaze, blush uncontrollably at her bizarre fascination for the details of his love life.

But this is no ordinary situation. There is no new man like she seems to think; there is only Brendan. And he's not even _here_.

It's just that Ste's been _there_ again, and now that he knows it's not all in his head, he also knows that there's only one explanation. And it's not that he's having a psychotic breakdown.

Those pills _are_ dodgy after all. In fact, dodgy is an understatement. Dodgy implies some kind of medical danger. _This _is in a whole other league marked 'insanity'.

"Er, no, it's nothing like that Ames," he manages feebly, knowing how unconvincing his voice sounds.

"Yeah yeah, whatever," she twinkles back, and he can tell she's happy to drop it for now.

To be honest, Ste's not that bothered at her assumptions. At least if she thinks he's got a new bloke, she won't feel the need to worry about him quite so much.

He changes the subject, asks her what she's doing here - not that he'd usually mind.

It's a recurring theme at the moment; going over how he'd behave if things were _normal_.

"I just wondered if I could tag along to the deli with you - that's if you're still going today?"

Amy's looking at him pointedly, and again he acknowledges the fact that he isn't dressed yet. "Yeah, 'course. I won't be a minute, just let me throw something on."

He calls out to her while he's changing from the bedroom. "No work today?"

"It's my day off," she calls back. "So, what's on the agenda for today then?"

He'd forgotten. The reason he arranged to go to the new branch today was so he can make a start on training the new staff.

"Staff training," he replies as he returns, meeting her by the door. He only has to grab his keys on the way out and then they're setting off down the road.

Ste's silent as they walk. He's trying to focus on what he's supposed to - getting the new deli up and running - but there's only one word reverberating around his head.

_Brendan_.

He was with Brendan less than an hour ago. He'd _kissed_ him.

The man was in prison. It wasn't physically possible. But it had happened.

"Ste? Ste, are you alright?"

He's been so stuck inside his own head that he's almost walked past the deli.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he tells Amy, and this time he thinks he sounds believable.

But she's still eyeing him with a mix of suspicion and concern. "You sure? You were miles away there!"

Ste files away his worries; the thoughts of Brendan that he'd managed to block out until those bloody pills took him back to the very core of it all.

Then he turns to smile at Amy as he unlocks the door of the building and lets them in. "I'm sure," he promises, and after a minute she nods back.

"Right then, fancy helping me out or are you just here for a freebie? You _do_ know I haven't got any food in yet," he broaches as they wait for the new staff to arrive.

She rolls her eyes at him, and he laughs and chucks her an apron. He can do this. He can pretend this time travel thing isn't true for another day while he reminds himself of what's sane.

It's something he might need to hold onto while he has the willpower.

_**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**_

So, as of next week, Ste has a brand new business to run. He has decent staff who are near-enough fully trained; he has a range of specialities on his menu that, as a chef, makes him feel accomplished in his career.

He's got a best friend who's spent all day telling him how proud she is of him, and two gorgeous kids who he can now see much more often than had been possible a week ago.

And in his nice new flat, he's got a bottle of pills that have been taking him back to Brendan. Back to a time when, although life was still full of complications, at least the love of his life wasn't behind bars.

He could throw the tablets away; could flush them down the toilet and make himself forget any of it ever happened.

That would be the strong thing to do – move on. Only he _can't_. Mere hours ago he was desperate to escape from what he'd thought was his _imagination_ dragging up his worst moments with Brendan Brady. He'd longed to be _here_, at home where he felt safe.

But now that he's on the outside; now that he's faced with the choice, he's not sure he really _would _rather be alone with his thoughts. If the choice is between that and seeing even a glimpse of _him _again, then he's always going to be weak enough to go for the latter.

The anticipation of it is enough to make him rush to swallow his third 'sleeping' pill, as if it's going to send him to where he wants to be instantly.

As it is, this time it doesn't take long for something to happen.

_**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**_

He's standing in front of a man with a gun. Brendan is by his side, a pair of crutches on the ground beneath their feet. He's bruised and battered; a shell of a man as he tries to shield Ste from harm's way.

Walker is holding the gun, and Ste can't stop the terror from creeping in, even though he's been through it all before.

His vision is clouding with tears, and he remembers begging for his life last time. He won't do it now, though, despite the fact that the gun is still being pointed at him and he is no less scared than he was the first time.

Then he is being pushed to the ground, out of the way while Brendan wrestles with Walker, trying to disarm him. An instant later a shot rings out, and he knows exactly what that means. It means Riley Costello has just been killed. _Again_.

There is a whispered exclamation of "Jesus" from Brendan, and Ste forces himself to open his eyes again just in time to see another struggle between the other two men.

"Out of the way," Walker spits when Brendan crouches down in front of him, protecting Ste once again. "Get out of my way Brendan!"

Just as before, nothing happens.

"Always know that all of this, is because of what _you've_ done."

Dropping the gun, Walker disappears down the steps.

Brendan is reaching for him within seconds. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay," he repeats, gently cupping his face.

Only it's not okay. He doesn't want to be here like _this_; unable to pick and choose where and when he comes back to. He doesn't want to revisit moments as horrific as this.

All Ste had wanted was to see Brendan. To be with him again.

He should have known better.

"Steven?"

He's drifting away now, and he knows he might as well give into unconsciousness rather than stay here.

"_Steven!"_

He wakes up with the word echoing inside his head.

The new clock on his bedside table reads 2am.

It's not something he's used to; being awake at this hour, and that's all thanks to the magic of sleeping pills. Since starting on them, he's basically been unconscious right through until his alarm wakes him up.

And while these new tablets aren't the same, so far they've certainly been quite effective until a reasonable hour.

Until now.

He can only think that the trauma of being held at gunpoint yet again must have jolted his senses.

Sitting up in bed, Ste takes a deep breath and finds himself reaching down to feel the marks on his thighs - the proof that every experience he's relived so far has been real.

The realisation hits him with a cold clarity: what if he could have saved Riley's life?

What if, instead of cowering on that balcony just as he'd done that first terrifying time, he'd intercepted and prevented an innocent man's death?

It doesn't bear thinking about for another second, because it will only torment him. If that really _was_ a chance to change things, then it had been and gone now.

He rubs his eyes, lays back down and eventually drifts back off into a restless sleep. Or at least that's what he thinks he's doing.

So he's more than a bit stunned to open his eyes yet again and be faced with not just Brendan; but a _smiling_ Brendan.

A smiling Brendan Brady, on a bridge in Dublin.

"I'm gonna kiss ye now," he's saying as he gestures Ste closer with the crook of his finger. "Come here."

And it isn't fair, because he just _has_ to go to him; there is no question. He knows the loss will hurt all over again when he comes to, but this man is like a drug to him. He can't go anywhere else but into his arms.

He doesn't allow himself to think for a second longer; he just clings to the man and kisses him until everything around them becomes blurred and inconsequential.

"Let's go, Steven," says Brendan when they finally break apart, and he can barely breathe, let alone speak. He watches as the man bends to pick up his bag for him, marvelling at every movement; at the content smile on Brendan's face.

He'd forgotten just how perfect this night had been for him.

Ste snaps out of his daze and follows him across the bridge, down the steps and back to his hotel.

What feels like barely an hour later, he regains consciousness back in the flat and he sobs until his throat is raw.

_**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**_

The weeks pass by without another blast into the past, and Ste throws himself into making the new deli a success.

He sees his kids every other day; impresses Doug with new ideas for the businesses when he comes to visit, and has a conversation with Amy that alerts him to the fact that she thinks he's finally moved on for good.

She tells him she's proud of him, that he hasn't let everything he's been through drag him down. He's already a success, she says. And when she adds that he might find himself a new boyfriend, someone to spend his life with; he doesn't shoot down the idea.

All he says is, "maybe."

The truth is, Ste _wants_ to believe he can have that. He probably could, in fact. But it would never be enough for him.

He doesn't throw the pills away – can't bring himself to dispose of them when they have the ability to take him back to Brendan. But neither has he been able to bring himself to use them after the pain of waking without him _again_, having just re-experienced one of the best nights of his life.

Instead, he registered with the new doctors' surgery and, praying that any notes from his last GP wouldn't be faxed on before his first appointment, he asked for a prescription of sleeping pills. He'd been relieved when there was no mention of his history of taking them, and had rushed out of the surgery before the doctor could change her mind.

Now he's back to square one, popping pills to get a decent nights' sleep while spending all his days either working flat out or being with Leah and Lucas.

It's not until he's sat in the flat on a very rare and empty day off that he allows his mind to wander again. He's watching the news, although not really paying attention to the content until a familiar name is mentioned.

"_The foundation, which was set up in memory of the footballer Riley Costello..." _

Ste doesn't follow what's being said on the subject, but hearing the name takes him back to that balcony, and the fatal gunshot that he's witnessed twice over.

He thinks of Bobby, and then of Mitzeee and their own little boy who never even got to meet his dad. The guilt creeps in at not being able to stop Riley's death even when he knew it was coming. For a time, he'd almost managed to convince himself that the effects from those tablets hadn't been real.

But they were as real as the carpet burn marks that had showed up on his thighs.

He switches off the television and sits in silence as an entirely selfish thought springs to mind.

Maybe he could stop Cheryl from carrying out the act that changed her life forever; and therefore prevent Brendan from making the ultimate sacrifice for her.

Maybe he can get the rest of his life back.

On impulse, Ste heads into the bathroom and fishes out the bottle of pills from the medicine cabinet. It's 1 o'clock in the afternoon and he only woke up from a dreamless sleep a couple of hours ago, but he doesn't care. He's obsessed all over again.

Before he can change his mind, or tell himself to get a grip, he rushes straight into the kitchen and swallows a tablet down with water.

As he slumps back on the sofa and waits for the inevitable, his phone beeps with a message from Amy, asking if he can have the kids the following night. At the mention of Leah and Lucas, he's suddenly overcome with horror when he realises that what he's just done might well have consequences for them.

In fact, he can almost guarantee it. Amy had taken their children out of his life while Brendan was still in it; she's hardly likely to relent the second time around.

Then again, he _could_ end up in another time entirely, he muses.

But if he finds himself where he intended, he has to save Brendan and Cheryl. It'll kill him if he doesn't try. That old desire to have both the love of his life _and _his son and daughter with him has returned at full force.

Moments later, feels himself drifting off, unable to do anything about it even if he had wanted to change his mind.

_**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**_

Ste knows where, and _when_ he is the moment his eyes focus on his surroundings. Perhaps it should have been obvious that he would go back to something recent. These 'episodes' have all been in some kind of chronological order, after all.

He's standing in the pub, his phone on the bar in front of him. He can feel the fresh cut on his face, and there's a beer in his hand.

He looks down at the number on the screen and sees that he'd just phoned Eileen to ask for a favour, but to no avail.

He remembers downing a few more pints after that, and then later on starting the walk home only to hear a gunshot ring through the village. This time, he's not going to waste a second. Suddenly he knows exactly what to do. Whether or not it'll work is anyone's guess, but he has to try.

Legging it outside, Ste runs to Cheryl's. He has time before he needs to get to Brendan, and right now the most important thing is to find his sister and supervise her every move.

As he runs, he dials 999 and asks for the police, telling them the address of the club. It's the very same thing he did the first time round, only now it's not going to end with a Brendan Brady confession. Not on his watch.

"Cheryl!" he shouts as he bangs loudly on the front door. "Chez, let me in!"

The woman he comes face to face with on the other side of the door looks a shadow of her former self. It's second only to the way she looked the day she'd fled Chester with Nate.

In that instant, Ste clicks that she's just discovered the childhood bombshell involving Brendan and their father.

He walks inside but neither of them bother to shut the door behind them. _His_ reason for that stems from being in far too much of a hurry; Cheryl's can only be due to the sickening horror that's written all over her face.

He watches as she takes a step towards him, and now that he drags his eyes away from her traumatised face, he spots what's in her hands.

The gun is in her left; the USB stick in her right.

She's holding the gun by the barrel end, and instinctively he reaches out and takes it from her. He removes the bullets with shaking hands, puts them on a nearby table and stashes the gun in his jacket pocket. All he knows at the moment is that he's going to use it as bait.

Cheryl is looking at him with wide, glassy eyes.

"I found it under the sofa," she whispers in a voice thick and hoarse with emotion. She holds up the stick next. "And then this came..."

Ste grabs it and hides it away in his other pocket.

"It's a recording. It's about my daddy and..."

"I know," he cuts her off, taking her hands in his.

"What? When did ye...?"

"Earlier. Brendan told me this morning," he replies, recalling in his head every word that he'd been told as if it really had only just been spoken to him.

"Come on, we need to go and get him," Ste adds, pulling her out of the flat.

She nods, no objections, following him as he runs to the club at top speed. The police haven't arrived yet, so they go in themselves through the back door.

They catch the tail end of Seamus' evil words, telling Brendan he's been 'bad'.

"No Da', _please_," Brendan is pleading, and in that moment, Ste wants to tear the old man apart, wants to be the one to kill him - anything to stop him towering over the man he loves, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind as to what he's about to do.

That's not what he's here for, though.

While his head has been in conflict, only split seconds have passed by and before he can do or say anything, Cheryl is screaming.

"Get away from him ye sick monster!"

Seamus stumbles, falls over and turns to look at her.

"Cheryl! What's the matter? Me and your brother were just talking. I just lost my balance, nearly landed on him, that's all."

Ste can't believe his audacity; the lack of shame about this man. And now neither can Cheryl.

"You're a liar! I know _everything_. I know what ye did to Brendan."

Brendan is still slumped on the floor, his face frozen, eyes glued to his sister's. As Seamus, his back to them now, attempts to deny all knowledge to Cheryl of what they know, Ste slips past them and discreetly pulls the unloaded gun out of his pocket. He places it on the bar before going to kneel by Brendan's side. And if he notices what Ste has done, he doesn't let on.

"I know everything," Cheryl repeats, spitting with it now and backing away as her father moves in her direction. "Ye should be locked up. You're _disgusting_."

"Whatever ye heard, sweetheart, it's been twisted. You've got it all wrong. Did _he_ tell you this?" Seamus turns around, pointing at Ste with an ugly snarl on his face.

Brendan finally gets to his feet, but his father has made a violent grab for Ste and he's not quick enough to stop him.

Spotting the gun, Seamus picks it up, and Ste manages to glance at Brendan, willing him with his eyes to understand that he's in no danger. He'd been almost certain that their father would place the blame at his door.

There is a hammering on the door. "Police! Open up!"

Ste guesses that if Cheryl could think straight she would be complying. As it stands, the only person that moves is Brendan as he steps closer to him. He knows he's desperately trying to work out how to get them out of this situation, but what he doesn't realise is that for once, Ste is the one in control.

The door is kicked open, and armed officers storm through. One of them shouts at Seamus to drop the gun, and Ste elbows him in the ribs to free himself.

The next few minutes seem to pass in typically film-like slow motion, and he hasn't the faintest idea how this will end for the old man. He is still brandishing the gun in a tight grip, a deranged look on his face.

Cheryl dodges out of the way, running towards Ste and Brendan in the corner of the room.

"Drop the gun!"

"I'm the victim here! Ask them where this came from," Seamus shouts back at them. As he gets the words out he waves the weapon about maniacally.

To the police, it looks like an aim to fire. And just like that night on the club balcony, no one else is aware that there are no bullets in the gun.

One of the armed officers lifts his own gun and shoots.

A short while later, Seamus Brady is pronounced dead at the scene.

Once they've all been spoken to and their initial statements given, the three of them return to Cheryl's place and Ste huddles with her on the sofa as she sobs. His eyes are closed as he hugs her tight. Despite himself, he still feels full of shock and disbelief.

Brendan stands nearby, arms folded and his back resting against the armchair as he watches them.

Ste doesn't look up, doesn't open his eyes; but he can sense the man's reassuring presence. And it's then that it hits him.

Brendan hasn't gone anywhere. Hasn't left him. He's still _here_.

_**~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~ STENDAN ~**_

"Steven..."

He's almost scared to open his eyes in case it's not real. In case the voice is inside his head.

"Steven."

The familiar voice is so close that it's tickling his ear.

He opens one eye, and a loud gasp forces it's way from his throat when he sees the bright, sparkling eyes of the Irishman hovering over him.

"What's wrong?" The beautiful eyes are now a picture of concern.

Ste opens the other eye. "Wrong?" he repeats, no room for the word in his life considering what he's now being faced with. There is nothing _wrong_ with this image.

"You seemed startled," Brendan replies, one brow raised.

"Nope, I'm absolutely fine," he insists, sitting up slowly. He wants to act naturally, to be normal, but he can't stop himself from touching the man's face. He runs his hands over Brendan's cheeks, his hair, even his moustache.

"What on earth are ye doing?"

"Just checking," Ste tells him. _Just checking that you're really here..._

Brendan leans over to kiss him – a long, inviting kiss that takes his breath away. It's almost as if he can read his mind and knew that he needed the confirmation.

He pulls away reluctantly to look around the room, noticing something. They're in his Manchester flat.

He lets himself hope...

There's a sudden knock on the door, and then a voice rings out: "Hello, are you in guys? Don't tell me you've forgotten it's Leah's sports' day?"

Brendan groans jokingly at the interruption. Ste looks on, stunned, as he calls out playfully to Amy. "'Course we haven't. We're already there!"

There's a chuckle and another knock on the door, louder this time.

"Shut up and put him down, will you Brendan? Come on, Ste! Get up!"

He daren't move for fear of falling out of the bed.

"Well, ye heard the lady," Brendan tells him, standing up and offering out his hand.

Ste thinks back to how lost he was before; how he couldn't sleep without a stash of pills to keep him going. But that was then, and this is now.

Staring up and into the eyes of his new world, all he can see is the future.


End file.
